


What She Missed

by scifishipper



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal, Established Relationship, F/M, Light BDSM, Masturbation, Multi, Polyamory, Rimming, Romance, Sex Toys, Threesome - F/F/M, Voyeurism, porn with a tiny bit of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 06:42:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1256602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifishipper/pseuds/scifishipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Irene returns home to an imagined pleasure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What She Missed

**Author's Note:**

> The established relationship was inspired by:
> 
> [The 3 Conditions for Combustion](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1074364) by [dietplainlite](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dietplainlite/pseuds/dietplainlite). Especially the lovely line, _Irene wears a fragrance that costs three times the one she'd bought for Molly, and goes through a bottle every two months. Molly has been nursing her precious bottle for six and it hasn't been depleted by half._
> 
> AND
> 
> [Burning on a Low Flame](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1150051) by [BowlOfGlow](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BowlOfGlow/pseuds/BowlOfGlow)

Irene arranged the flowers, preferring the square vase to the round one that Kate had chosen. The white of the petals contrasted with the black tapestry wallpaper behind her bed, covered in sheets of white, crisp linen, perfect for the rumpling they would soon receive.

Molly’s skip-step shuffle sounded on the stairs below, long before the scent of her perfume reached Irene’s nose. “I’m in here, darling,” she called out, glancing at her reflection in the mirror. On a whim, she pulled out her hairpin, letting her dark waves cascade down to graze her nipples, just visible beneath a sheer emerald robe.

“Hi, uh, hello, Irene.” Molly stammered in the frame of the doorway, clutching her striped bag. “You’re back.”

Irene turned to face her and smiled. “I’ve missed you,” she said, closing the distance between them. Molly’s perfume, the one Irene had bought for her, mixed with the smells of the street. That would never do.

Irene turned her back and walked away. “Get undressed.” Irene looked into the mirror again and twisted a lock of hair around her finger. In her mind’s eye she pictured Molly’s adorable fumbling. Not sure if she should move into the room or where she should set her bag. And on cue, she simply let it thump on the floor. Irene smiled, adjusted the deep V of her robe, revealing more pale skin between her breasts.

“I, uh, okay,” Molly said, slightly breathless. When Irene turned, Molly’s hands were shifting over her breasts and then between her legs, uncertain which was more revealing. Her cheeks were flushed, bright pink to the end of her nose. 

“I see you’ve shaved for me, Molly. How…interesting.” Irene moved closer, examining her work, then hearing front door close. “Or maybe not for me at all.”

“Um, no, I mean, yes. For you. I mean, today.” Molly’s mouth stayed open for one more correction, but no words emerged. 

Sherlock’s voice echoed in the stairwell. “It took you an hour longer than I expected. What were you doing?” He appeared behind Molly, hair disheveled and slightly damp. His eyes locked onto Irene’s, still brighter than she ever remembered, crackling with energy. 

“Why, I was just admiring the precision of Molly’s shave. Of course it would be perfect. Otherwise, a distraction…” Irene sighed dramatically. The once empty room was full once again. Everything that she’d been missing for three months, back in place. With one small problem.

“Take off your clothes,” Irene commanded. “Molly, dear, on the bed. On your stomach.” Irene never took her eyes off of Sherlock as he bristled. He’d grown used to ignoring John’s questions. Mrs. Hudson’s requests. Mycroft’s orders. Much of her work undone.

“Do I need to repeat myself, Mr. Holmes?” Irene reached out a hand, stroked Molly’s calf as it rested on the edge of the bed. Her fingers walked upwards, closer to the soft rise of her ass. “Or maybe you don’t intend to participate? I would be quite happy to entertain Molly myself.”

Sherlock glanced at Molly and back to Irene. “Very well.” Slowly, with challenge in his eyes, he dropped his Belstaff to the floor and unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging it off, still tucked in, to hang off the waistband of his trousers. He flicked his belt with a crack, an invitation, if Irene was not mistaken. And she never was. He let that go, too, and then the pants, indelicately piled at his feet. 

Irene’s eyes drifted down to his noticeable erection and she smiled. “I can see you came prepared.” 

“I always do,” he quipped back at her, letting his mouth quirk up with humor. He was so much prettier when he smiled.

Sherlock toed off his shoes and kicked his pants aside. Molly looked over her shoulder, eyes curious, body twisting to reveal just a hint of pink between her legs.

Irene opened the top drawer of her dark wood dresser. Inside, a variety of toys were arranged by size and function. She chose the pink one with the textured base and closed the drawer. 

“What are you going to do with that, then?” Molly asked, eyeing the dildo, and threw a glance at Sherlock. 

“Oh, something I was thinking about while I was away.” Irene slid the dildo between her breasts and down to graze her thighs. “What I imagined in the mornings when I came on my fingers thinking of you two.” She was long past hiding her feelings from the them, reveling instead the loyalty they’d earned.

“Oh, I can’t wait!” Molly squeaked. 

“Yes, darling. You are going to enjoy this very much.” 

“Lick her, Sherlock. The way I showed you. Not whatever mess you’ve been making if it while I’ve been gone.” He could be a selfish git and she was sure he’d become indulgent. He couldn’t help himself.

Sherlock knelt on the soft white rug next to the bed and spread Molly’s thighs apart. Irene watched as he extended his tongue and licked, exploring the puckered flesh of her ass, down through the pink folds to find her clit. Molly arched her ass up with a gasp. 

“Lovely, Sherlock,” she said. Irene threaded her fingers through his curls, petting him. 

Her encouragement worked and he spread Molly open wider, using his mouth and tongue to tease her flesh. Molly crooned and moaned, straining herself towards him when he teased too much. It was a delight to watch. 

“Fingerfuck her ass, now. Gently.” Irene’s caress drifted down Sherlock’s back, feeling the play of muscles as he sucked on his finger to wet it. He swirled the finger around her tight hole, then gently in, eliciting a gasp from Molly.

“Mmm. That’s it. Oh, Molly, darling, if you could see yourself now.” Irene loved to imagine Molly’s surprise, her wonder at the sheer sexiness she showed with the two of them. Uninhibited, eager, passionate. Irene did not hide that Molly was one of her favorites. 

Sherlock pushed his finger in all the way, then out again to stroke her. Irene could see her opening up, relaxing. “Another finger,” Irene commanded. 

_Good boy,_ she thought as he complied, his face intense with concentration. She could imagine the cataloguing, assessing, still thinking when she wanted him to feel. 

With two fingers inside her, Molly moaned at every stroke, pushing back to take more. Irene reached onto the bedside table and squeezed lube onto the pink dildo and held it out to him. “Use this.”

Sherlock glanced at the dildo and then up at Irene. He raised a brow, having deduced what she was planning. “Ah, yes. Very nice.”

He withdrew his fingers and pressed the slick pink object into Molly’s ass. It was wider than his two fingers and Molly groaned, pushing her face hard into the pillow. Irene shivered inside, arousal hotter than it had been just imagining it. She let her fingers graze her own nipple. 

“Now you, Sherlock. Fuck her. Fill her up until she screams.”

Sherlock rose up, his erection bobbing in front of him. He stroked himself a few times and approached. He pushed two fingers inside her while he continued to move the dildo. Molly’s sharp intake of air sent a ripple of pleasure coursing through Irene. She felt the pulse in her neck quicken. 

Tucking his hips, Sherlock slid inside Molly, slowly at first, then filling her up. Molly screeched against the pillow and fisted the sheets. Sherlock pulled out a little, but held the dildo firm. He pushed back in again and found a rhythm, moving the dildo in time with his cock. Molly keened and gasped and rolled against him. Her fingers scrabbled against the sheets and her own skin, scratching, then finding purchase on Sherlock’s fingers as they gripped her ass with one hand. 

Irene let her robe fall off and climbed onto the bed next to Molly, inhaling the musky scent of sex and her perfume, now unpolluted by the outside world. Irene’s breasts were close enough to feel strands of Molly’s hair tickling against them. Irene laid back and spread her own legs apart, using one long, red-tipped finger to find her clit. She held Sherlock’s eyes as he fucked Molly, taking in a scene better and more exciting than her imagination had concocted. She stroked herself, watching the striations of muscle ripple across Sherlock’s chest, listening to Molly, so close, keening and moaning, seeming to break apart over and over again. 

Molly turned her head, looked up at Irene with a wild gaze, hair plastered to her forehead. She was a beautiful mess. Irene touched Molly’s face, watched Molly’s eyes film over with bliss. Irene felt her own heat rising, arousal coiling under her fingers. Molly reached out a clumsy hand, clutched at Irene’s breast. Sherlock’s eyes were locked on the two of them, moving faster and more erratically as Molly screamed in pleasure. 

Irene reached down and grasped Molly’s fingers, bruising in their grip, and threaded her own fingers through them. She felt the shock waves of Molly's orgasm, vibrating skin against skin until Irene’s own movements quickened, focusing on the white hot point of arousal at her fingertips. 

“I’m coming,” Sherlock announced, his face shining with sweat, unguarded and beautiful, going slack as he pulsed hard into Molly with a deep groan.

Irene cried out, too, clutching Molly’s hand against her thigh as she came, an explosion of sensation and passion that jerked her body against Molly’s damp skin. 

Molly screeched one last time before Sherlock slowed and pulled out. He moved to remove the dildo, but Irene gave a breathy command, “Leave it. Leave it inside.”

Sherlock did as he was told and climbed onto the bed to spoon against Molly from the other side. Irene reached between them and pressed the dildo more firmly into Molly’s ass. “Don’t move, my love. There will be more for you,” Irene whispered into Molly’s hair. 

Molly nodded into the pillow, a mass of light brown tangles obscuring her face. Sherlock turned her onto her side and tucked himself up against her, eliciting another gasp as he pressed the dildo in harder with his thigh. 

He opened his long arms to invite Irene in, as well, and Molly did the same. With a sated, heavy pleasure, Irene, in turn, tucked her back against Molly’s soft flesh. Four arms wrapped around her, pulling her close.

It was everything she’d missed the most.


End file.
